


Reeds Bending

by cher



Category: A Memory Called Empire - Arkady Martine
Genre: F/F, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-17 22:21:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21950626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cher/pseuds/cher
Summary: Mahit receives a summons back to the City.
Relationships: Mahit Dzmare/Three Seagrass
Comments: 20
Kudos: 58
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	Reeds Bending

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Silvereye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silvereye/gifts).



The message from Nineteen Adze arrived on the kind of day that made Mahit want to leap immediately aboard the next transport that became available. That she only _knew_ that Nineteen Adze had sent a message to the Lsel Council because it had been accompanied by a personal message from Three Seagrass was only a small weight on the scales of her frustration. 

The greatest part of her difficulty was the Council itself, as it had been since her return. Mahit found the politics of it all much more difficult to navigate than the manoeuvring of the City, even if there was little to no risk of domestic terrorism on the Station. For one thing, on the Station she lacked an ally of the calibre of Three Seagrass, or even of Twelve Azalea's enthusiastic lack of subtlety. For another, Mahit understood, on a broad and general level, the goals and desires of the Teixcalaanli Empire. The Lsel Council, by contrast, currently could not seem to agree on a policy to save its life, which was a sentiment she meant literally. 

The remaining portion of her unrest was her abiding longing for the City, a feeling that was like the hissing of airlocks: always with her, commonplace, usually unnoticed, and sometimes very urgent. 

The message from Three Seagrass was in verse, and following her usual pattern, giving Mahit a key to unlock her second message. 

> _Reeds bend in the wind  
>  _ _Bowing before the harvest knife; shivering  
>  _ _At what is to come. Yet from the steel-edged gathering  
>  _ _May come the comforts of the hearth._
> 
> _Woven together, the reeds  
>  _ _And the far-away seeker of the star's roads,  
>  _ _welcomed and welcoming,_
> 
> _provide shelter._

Mahit's heart thumped, and Yskandr's interest spiked. <Well, then. That's a declaration of intentions if ever I saw one,> he said, wry. <None of my Teixcalaanli conquests were ever so clear.>

So she was being recalled to the City—ignore for the moment the Teixcalaan arrogance of recalling the citizen of another power as if that were the natural order of things—by Nineteen Adze, and there was danger. Of course there was danger; better to say that she was recalled and that Three Seagrass feared for Mahit's safety specifically. Yet Three Seagrass proposed an alliance, perhaps even a marriage, and by that arrangement hoped to protect Mahit and herself, and perhaps also Lsel Station, although the inference there was obscure and Mahit was not entirely certain she had correctly understood. 

Mahit's hands shook, along with her racing heart, and this time she could not blame Yskandr's endocrine systems for the reaction. This was all her own, and she could feel Yskandr's indulgent amusement even as she was aware that he was already considering the deeper political implications of the message. She was intensely glad that she had waited to read Three Seagrass' message in the secure confines of her room, the walls hugging her close and safe. 

She took a breath and opened the second message. 

_Ambassador Dzmare,_ it read, in Three Seagrass' wry amused tone, _The game is afoot, or something like it. Her Brilliance will summon you back if she has not done so already, and for so many reasons you must agree. They are the sort of reasons I should not record here, but if you remember me as fondly as I remember you, then I ask you to trust my advice once again: I am your liaison still._

_I imagine there may be some difficulty with your Council, which should be overcome simply by the Emperor's personal request. I recall your hesitation in matters of your government's instruction in the past, however. Should you require a more persuasive argument then you might imply that Her Brilliance is in a negotiating frame of mind. There may be concessions for Lsel Station to be won._

_And in more personal terms I find that I regret your absence, and I wish to announce my intentions before your (swift! let it be swift!) departure. I hope that by doing so, you may begin to satisfy your own cultural requirements relating to formal courtship. I of course stand ready to abide by your customs, should I be blessed with your acceptance of my suit._

_Oh, Mahit, I don't mean to sound so formal, but nerves have taken me. Say you will consider me! Only come quickly, so that I can explain it all._

_Yours,_

_Three Seagrass_  
_Secretary to the Minister  
_ _Ministry of Information_

Three Seagrass had had two promotions, then, since Mahit had left the City. It was bound to happen; Three Seagrass was simply too good to be allowed to operate at the lower levels for long. She hoped that the promotion was welcome, and had been bloodless as far as it went. 

Would she go? 

<Oh, why waste the brain space,> Yskandr said, incredulous. <Of course you're going. You'd be going even if you didn't want to go. As it is, you're not going to have that problem at all, are you.>

She was not, indeed. She could not help but take the chance—slim and possibly only a half truth of a half truth—that she could secure a treaty for Lsel Station. An Emperor was always, from a certain perspective, in a negotiating sort of a mood, as Three Seagrass put it. That did not mean the negotiation would be with her, or in any way favourable to the Station, but she had to try. 

And she would be lying to herself if she pretended even for a moment that she had not missed the City desperately, even more intensely than she had anticipated. Personal preference had very little place in a diplomat's life, and yet her imago line was notable specifically for their conflicted but politically effective love for Teixcalaan culture. Two ambassadors in a row forming close personal relationships with two successive Emperors was nothing to be discounted. 

Then there was Three Seagrass, and the remembered thrill of holding her in her arms, of listening to her recite in her poetry circle, of running blind and trusting with her hand in hers. Of their mouths hot against one another. 

Yskandr snorted softly as Mahit reached for her satchel and began to pull together her essential belongings. 

_Provide shelter,_ indeed.


End file.
